The Dead Wife's Handbook (11 page)

‘Of course you’re still part of the team, princess. Just the prettiest member, that’s all. I bet everyone would rather wear what you’re wearing, given half the chance.’

Connor tickles Ellie’s tummy, transforming her frown into peals of giggles.

‘He’s not going to forget again, though, are you, Daddy? ’Cos now we’ve got the chart on the fridge.’

‘A chart on the fridge, huh? That sounds very organized.’

‘We can but hope. Ellie’s gone through the calendar highlighting all the days she needs her PE kit so that I have advance warning of when to wash it. Although there are only a couple of weeks of term left now, aren’t there, angel, so we’ll have to remember to do it again in September?’

‘Don’t worry, Daddy. I won’t forget.’

‘So what’s on the line-up for today, then? Are you going to win some races and make your daddy and me proud?’

‘Um, I don’t know. I’ll try. But Miss Collins says it doesn’t matter who wins. She says it’s all just for fun.’

‘Well, Miss Collins clearly hasn’t learnt yet that it’s a dog-eat-dog world out there. Just remember, you don’t get one of those nice shiny medals if you come second.’

Max rolls his eyes and pulls Ellie on to his lap.

‘Don’t listen to Uncle Connor, sweetheart. He doesn’t understand that not everything in life is a competition. You just have a good time and enjoy yourself. Do you know who you’re doing the three-legged race with yet?’

‘Yes, Miss Collins let us choose so me and Megan are doing it together.’

‘That’s great. You two will make a great pairing. And who’s giving out the prizes this year?’

Now it’s Ellie’s turn to roll her eyes.

‘Mr Baxter, like always, Daddy.’

‘Which one’s Mr Baxter, again?’

‘Aw, Daddy, you know Mr Baxter. He does all our games lessons. He’s my favourite. He’s really funny.’

‘Yes, I remember now. Isn’t he the one you say looks like a Labrador puppy?’

‘Shhhh, Daddy. What if someone hears you? Then we’ll get into trouble.’

‘Oh, I think we’ll be okay, munchkin. If anyone tells Mr Baxter what we said I promise to take the rap and say it was all my fault.’

Ellie giggles and kisses Max squarely on the lips. I close my eyes and remember the feeling of her soft, plump lips on mine.

‘Look, I think Miss Collins is calling you all back over. Hop off, munchkin, and we’ll see you in a bit.’

Ellie tightens her lithe, T-shirted arms around Max’s neck.

‘Can’t I just stay here with you and Uncle Connor for a bit?’

‘What, and miss out on all the fun? Don’t be silly, angel. The first race will be starting soon.’

‘I don’t want to go yet.’

Ellie buries her plaintive voice under Max’s chin, tightening her grip further.

‘You don’t want to hang out with us old fogeys when you could be with your friends, do you? And if you stay
here with your daddy and me you don’t even stand a chance of winning one of those medals.’

Ellie doesn’t answer Connor, burrowing her face further into Max’s shoulder, an attempt, perhaps, to render herself invisible so she’ll never have to move. Max encloses her in his arms, as if to protect her from the sadness he’d do anything to alleviate.

I’d been hoping she wouldn’t be plagued today by memories of last year, that they wouldn’t impede her enjoyment this time around. I’d been confident that Connor’s presence might provide enough of a distraction to allow Ellie to experience this annual school ritual afresh.

Because last year’s Sports Day had been horrendous. I’d been dead for just over two months and Ellie was too confused and withdrawn still to interact with her friends, let alone compete against them. She’d burst into tears spontaneously and repeatedly and no one – not Max, not the teachers and certainly not the other parents – had known how to console her. Max had taken her home early in the end, where he’d tucked her under a blanket on the sofa and watched
Monsters, Inc.
with her, the film that Ellie had viewed repeatedly in the months after I died. Later Max had confessed to his mum that he’d felt more angry about my death on that day than any other in the nine weeks prior; that he’d been enraged by the lack of empathy from other parents, whom he’d felt had looked upon him and Ellie with silent, detached judgement; that he’d felt overwhelming resentment towards me for casting him as the tragic widower, upon whom all curious eyes were surreptitiously cast; and that, worst of all, he’d hated himself for his own discomfort, for his embarrassment at
Ellie’s behaviour and for his wish that she could have abandoned her grief for just one afternoon. He said he’d yearned to be part of a normal, inconspicuous family, whose personal tragedy wasn’t the topic of trackside conversation, where gossip and speculation masquerade as sympathy and understanding. And that, at the end of it all, his guilt about all those feelings had been almost intolerable.

Max prises Ellie’s head gently from his shoulder and holds her face in his hands.

‘It’s fine, sweetheart. You’re going to be just fine. We’ll be right here, cheering you on. We won’t move from this spot, I promise.’

Ellie looks deep into Max’s eyes with an intensity so much greater than befits her years.

‘You promise you’re not going anywhere? You’re going to stay right there, all afternoon?’

‘We promise, angel. Don’t we, Connor?’

‘Scout’s honour, princess. Where else could we possibly want to be when there’s our favourite little girl competing all afternoon?’

Ellie grants them a wistful smile, seemingly more for their benefit than her own. She slips warily from Max’s lap, turns to leave and then circles back for one additional paternal hug before walking across the field to rejoin her classmates. Halfway over she halts for a second, revolves to face Max and Connor and gives them an almost imperceptible wave of insecurity. Her daddy and her uncle respond with exaggerated reassurance, Connor blowing kisses and Max waving enthusiastically back.

‘She’s still a bit clingy, then?’

Connor and Max both keep a watchful eye on Ellie’s completed journey.

‘To be honest, she hasn’t been too bad lately. No bed-wetting for ages now and she generally only comes in with me just before the alarm goes off. I thought she’d been a lot more settled until just now.’

‘One day at a time, huh?’

‘Yeah, I know. I just don’t like seeing her so insecure again.’

They lapse into a respectful silence, as if in honour of Ellie’s adversity.

‘She’ll be okay, Max. It’s going to take some time, but she will.’

‘I hope you’re right. I suppose, if I’m honest, I knew today might trigger something in her. It’s hard enough for me not having Rachel here for events like this so I can’t really imagine what it’s like for Ellie.’

And it’s hard for me too, to be here but not be here, to hear you but not be heard, to see you but not be seen. To want to make things better for you and Ellie but being powerless to do so.

‘It’s tough, there’s no doubt about it. It’s no surprise she’ll have moments like that, given everything she’s been through. Two steps forward and one back, I reckon.’

‘You’re probably right. That’s why I was so pleased when you said you could come today. She might not have both her parents here and it’s unfortunate timing that Mum and Dad are on holiday, but at least she’s still got the two of us supporting her.’

‘Hey, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. Not even for a client lunch at Nobu.’

‘I’m sure that’s not too much of a sacrifice, is it, given the number of client lunches you seem to go on every week?’

‘It’s all work, Max, whatever you might think. In fact, the bloke I was supposed to be meeting today owns a massive TV company, the one that made the new comedy show on Channel 4 last Friday that everyone’s been raving about. Did you see it? I couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about. Didn’t think it was funny at all.’

Max hesitates for a second and I can almost hear the contemplative cogs whirring in his mind, deciding whether or not to risk a confidence.

‘No, I was out. On a date, for my sins.’

‘On a date? Bloody hell, you kept that one quiet. Who’s the lucky lady?’

‘Well, not-so-lucky, as it turned out. It was a complete disaster. I don’t really want to talk about it.’

A light flush of humiliation grazes Max’s cheeks.

‘Come on, mate. You’re probably just a bit rusty. It has been a while since you tested out the old Myerson magic, after all.’

‘The only magic I was capable of was making my date disappear in record time. Seriously, she couldn’t get out of there quick enough.’

‘It can’t have been that bad.’

‘Trust me, it can. I found myself talking about Rachel the whole time, telling this woman I’d only met five minutes before about the night she died. Honestly, I cringe just thinking about it.’

Connor tries – and fails – to restrain the look of amused disbelief on his face.

‘Okay, you win, that does sound pretty bad.’

‘I know, Connor. That’s why I didn’t want to talk about it. The whole time I was there I could hear this voice shouting in my head, telling me to shut up and change the subject, but for some reason I just couldn’t. All this stuff about Rachel and Ellie kept coming out, like the verbal equivalent of projectile vomit.’

‘Well, I suppose there’s an argument that if you do end up dating someone, they’ll find out about Rachel sooner or later so it’s probably better to get it out in the open early on?’

‘I’m not sure. It was obvious that I didn’t have anything in common with this woman and it was never going to go anywhere so that wasn’t really the issue. It was more that I felt so guilty about it, like it was some kind of betrayal of Rachel, to be confiding about her to this total stranger. But even though it felt wrong I still couldn’t stop myself.’

It’s a relief, albeit maybe a selfish one, that it’s not just me who feels that my death and its aftermath aren’t yet ready for public consumption. The last thing I want is for Max to feel guilty on top of everything else he has to contend with, but I do want to believe that our marriage – including its untimely end – is still a sacred thing, not yet sufficiently digested to be used as conversational fodder, certainly not with random strangers.

‘How did you meet this date anyway? Did someone set you up?’

Max looks sheepish, as though this is one part of the confession he was hoping his brother might overlook.

‘It was Harriet’s idea. And Mum’s. I shouldn’t have listened to them.’

‘What was?’

‘It was an internet date. Harriet set up a profile for me. I didn’t ask her to. She just went ahead and did it without me even knowing.’

Connor laughs at Max’s defensiveness. In response, Max turns an even deeper shade of pink.

‘What on earth are you doing taking dating advice from Mum? I mean, I know it’s been a long time, bro, but it’s been practically a lifetime for her. Why didn’t you come to me if you were thinking of getting back out on the dating scene?’

‘Because I wasn’t thinking about it. I didn’t have any inclination to go out at all, let alone on dates with complete strangers. They just somehow talked me into it. You know what Mum’s like when she gets going, and Harriet’s even worse.’

‘But isn’t there something a bit – I dunno – desperate about internet dating?’

‘Well, maybe I was desperate. Desperate to get Mum and Harriet off my case, at least. But I was right before – it’s far too soon.’

I couldn’t agree more. Perhaps there’ll come a time when we’ll both feel differently. Right now, though, I can’t imagine when that time might arrive and what it might feel like if it ever does.

‘Hang on there a second. There’s no need to throw in the dating towel just yet. Just because you had one bad experience doesn’t mean to say the next one, or the one after that, will be the same. Like I said, it’s early days.’

‘There won’t be a next one. That’s my lot. I should have listened to my instincts. Rachel’s only been gone a year. It
wouldn’t feel right to be seeing someone else. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I just don’t know.’

Max has spoken rapidly, almost tripping over his own words in a bid to get them out before Connor has an opportunity to argue with him.

‘Look, I get that you’ve been burnt by one bad experience. But you haven’t got anything to feel guilty about. It’s not your fault Rachel died. And there’s no reason you should be on your own forever as a result. You can’t seriously want that?’

‘Connor, I can barely think about what’s going to happen tomorrow, let alone years in the future. All I know is that it feels too soon. And I’m sure that other people – people who knew Rachel and me – would think it was too soon too.’

‘Who cares what other people think? I knew you both and I don’t think it’s too soon. I read something online the other day and it made me think of you. I should have sent you the link. It was an article about how long it takes to get over the end of a relationship. Apparently, the going rate is a month for every year. Now, you and Rachel were together – what, ten years? – and it’s been over a year that you’ve been on your own already, so technically you’ve every right to start seeing other women now. In fact, if you want to be pedantic about it, you’ve already lost a few legitimate months.’

Max stares at Connor with the incredulity I’m feeling.

‘Are you for real? A month for every year? That’s crass, Connor, even for you.’

‘Okay okay, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m only telling you what I read online. It was supposed to make you feel
better. Jesus. I’m just trying to reassure you that you don’t have anything to feel guilty about.’

‘It’s not just about feeling guilty. It’s about being honourable. I don’t expect you to understand.’

‘You’re right. I don’t understand because it hasn’t happened to me. But I don’t think you’re doing yourself any favours by burying your head in the sand. What’s your plan – to spend the next forty-odd years in a state of perpetual denial?’

Max and Connor fall into a silence of passive irritation against a backdrop of cheering from the playing field as the first race begins. It’s one of the older classes, not Ellie’s, allowing the two brothers to remain locked inside their respective grievances.